Prologue

Now, I'm no fan of medieval literature. In fact after you've got past the contents of the average castle's dungeon, my interest in things medieval wanders off. I had to read The Canterbury Tales when I was at school. I was surprised by how much smut there was in history. Some of it was filthy.

Geoffrey Chaucer wrote the Canterbury Tales in around 1400AD. It's a tale of a group of pilgrims and it starts like this...

"When in April the sweet showers fall

That pierce March's drought to the root and all

...

Then folk do long to go on pilgrimage,

And pilgrims to go seeking out strange strands,

To distant shrines, well known, in distant lands."

These days, it's not so common for pilgrims to go to distant shrines in distant lands but there are other pilgrimages, other shrines, other grails.

My name's Steve. There's this woman I know; Daphne. We share some interests. She had some problems. I was concerned about her but somehow I never got around to helping out. I'm not proud of that, it's just the way things are some times.

It turned out not to matter. She solved her own problems. She's been on a pilgrimage but sometimes you don't end up where you think you are going and sometimes you do. You might like to hear about it.

Like many pilgrims, Daphne's path was eased by others on the way. There was a Merchant, a seller of souls. He found a Student for Daphne. Then a Clerk sought out someone else to help Daphne on her path. She encountered a Counsellor and...

But that's putting the cart before the horse — and if you know me then you know that's something I never, ever, do!

It's probably easier if they all tell their own tales...

The Merchant's Tale